Megz's Fantasy SS: Jeet, chapter 5, pg20 - Page 9

Three

The last thing Viren Vadhera remembered before he was hauled into a room and forced to strip his dignity by his own family's henchmen was falling down the stairs.

Embarassing as it was, there were only two aunties standing there who did not at all object to the young Vadhera heir falling on their necks barely minutes before his marriage was due to take place. If anything they fussed over him and asked him whether he was okay while hissing to their husbands to click pictures. One particularly nosy guest even checked his breath and let out a disappointed sigh when she realized he wasn't tipsy. It was merely melancholy that had made him lose his footing.

Next thing he knew, two burly men had pushed him into an adjoining room and asked him to strip. When he asked whether this was some kind of creepy Chaudhary pre-marriage ritual to check the groom's manhood, and if it was, he didn't care, he didn't plan on ever touching their bride anyway, they simply pushed him onto the bed and removed his sherwani with more care and precision than which they were removing his self-esteem. This is my life,he thought mournfully, first I'm forced to get married to somebody I don't like, and now I'm getting raped on my wedding day.

In the background, Virat stood and watched gleefully. Though he felt bad to subject his brother to such duress, he had no other choice, the sherwani he had ordered for himself had not yet arrived. The look of discomfort on Viren's face was positively hilarious. He felt more amusement for his brother than pity. On the other hand, he couldn't help but think what would happen to Ms. Chaudhary when he happened to subject her to his honeymoon ritual. The look on her face after he'd kissed her at the Chaudhary's cocktail night had been positively creepy. He'd been targeting one of the lovely bridesmaids, and the feeling that he'd kissed his to-be wife and actually enjoyed it had been unnerving. But Maanvi had looked like she wanted more.

When the henchmen were done, they gagged Viren's mouth using a strip of cloth they'd torn off from the curtains. Then they bound his hands and legs using ropes and tossed his turban and sherwani to Virat. Virat whistled and yelled 'Thanks Bro' before rushing out. He made sure to lock the door behind him, and asked the bodyguards to constantly keep a watch on the door. Then he stepped gallantly out of the corridor and into the wedding hall, where immediately the chattering crowd came to a standstill on seeing the groom's brother step out in his costume.

'Sorry for the delay people,' he said, 'but there has been a slight change of plans.'

Out of nowhere, Viraj Vadhera came barelling out of the crowd and face-to-face with Virat. His grandfather's eyes were sparking with thunder, but Virat remained unfazed.

'Virat, what the hell is happening? ' he hissed. 'The guests have been waiting for half an hour. Where is Viren?'

'Viren ran away,Dadaji,' Virat said candidly.

At this point even Beeji butted in. Shameless as it sounded, Virat was beginning to enjoy how the whole drama was working out. 'What are you saying my son-in-law ran away?' she asked furiously. Virat could have sworn his grandfather gulped on seeing the storm simmering in the older woman's eyes.

'Oh no!' came a squeal from behind. The trio parted, to reveal Kadambari, Virat's film-obsessed aunt, who was dramatically clutching her cheeks. 'This is just like Viraasat where the groom leaves Tabu! Oh, who's going to be an Anil Kapoor for poor Maanvi now?'

It was then that both Beeji and Dadaji's eyes narrowed on Virat. He only grinned.

'Well,' Beeji said, making a resigned face, 'This is the only way we can escape humiliation.'

'What are you talking about Parminder?' Dadaji growled, then immediately made a straight face on realizing his mistake. 'I mean, Beeji Sahiba, how will we explain it to the guests? And Maanvi?'

'If the guests value their lives, they won't say anything. I'll personally ensure nobody leaves this place alive if they keep any malicious intents in their minds,' Beeji said crisply. 'And I know my granddaughter. She won't object. Kadambari, use that big mouth of yours to spread the news. The groom has changed.'

'But-' Dadaji began, but one look from Beeji was enough to silence him. Virat smirked. Suckers. He knew that even her granddaughter's happiness was no less than a high-end business deal for Beeji. Any other set of in-laws, and he would have hesitated before taking such a drastic step. With Beeji, everything was drastic. The woman never waited for anything. She didn't consult anyone except her own shrewd mind.

And if Beeji's mind worked the way Virat's did, then painting Viren as a jerk who stood up her granddaughter and then supplying the image of Virat as a nobleman who saved her reputation would make headlines. The Vadhera's stock value would shoot up, and nobody would object if Viren was disowned and Virat was made the next heir. Even Beeji would get a piece of the pie, by letting Viren walk alive as a favour on Virat. What a forgiving woman. She could have shot him alive but she had mercy.

Everybody would be happy. Viren would finally get a chance to walk away from the dark world of the Vadheras and live happily with Jeevika. Virat would finally get a chance at being the company's next junior partner. Beeji would further her 'secret-heart-of-gold' image. Virat was so proud of himself.

As he took his seat next to Maanvi in the mandap, he noticed the disgruntled look in everybody's eyes. Truly, things were going haywire. The groom had been switched, half the rituals had been skipped, and they'd run out of champagne. Let the foie gras come in, he thought. They'll be eating their hearts out and throwing flowers on us in no time.

He looked at Maanvi. She hadn't said a single word in the one hour since the chain of events had started. She was staring at the floor, lost in some kind of an impossible dream. He rolled his eyes. What was she pretending to be so sad about? She certainly didn't seem to be so much in devotion to her groom when she was kissing him in that dark corner! Fake spoilt brat. He knew her well. Well, he was going to teach her a lesson that night.

What is wrong with you Virat? His conscience chided. You did this to make your brother happy, remember? You are supposed to ignore this woman. She doesn't matter to you.

But she did. Ever since he remembered, Maanvi Chaudhary had been an uptight, stuck-up and self-righteous pain in the neck. She had thought she was so cool, running around the hallways of the prestigious boarding school they both had attended, with a whole posse of friends, behaving like nothing or no one could hurt her. She had never paid attention to him. She had never thought him worth her time. It was only when she'd realized he was a Vadhera that she'd given him some modicum of respect. And yet, whenever he came to her house, she behaved like she was so intelligent and he was imposing on her every moment she stayed there.

Well now we're together for life, he thought maliciously. What do you think? As if in response, a single tear rolled down her cheek.

'When will the rituals start?' she sniffled.

'I don't know,' he replied, trying to look bored, and ignore the lump somewhere at the bottom of his throat.

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The bidaai was a simple affair. Nobody seemed to be particularly sad, though the entire river Nile seemed to be flowing at once. Just like the diamonds catching the light of the stars in the sky and the gaudy decorations, the ceremony was just for show. People were whispering to each other how the bride was lucky that she had finally escaped from the atmosphere of death and destruction she had grown up in. Common perception was that growing up with Beeji had psychologically scarred her.Or else why would she be so quiet on the happiest day of her life?

Almost immediately, both of them were whisked away to the island resort Beeji had booked for their honeymoon night in the Chaudhary's private airplane. It was an exclusive retreat in the Maldives where each part of the island was exclusively reserved for the couple who had booked it. No outside elements were allowed-and that included any flying machines above the island or boats to the coastline. It was just the two of them.

Unlike most old-fashioned families which insisted on testing the bride's purity on her honeymoon night, the Vadheras laid more emphasis on the bride proving her stamina and ability to keep her husband satisfied. In the olden days bride were made to walk through the fields, naked save for a red piece of cloth draped around her torso, in the moonlight to her in-laws, dodging wolves and other dangers, before making her way to the bridal suite, and if she managed not to collapse from exertion, she was treated like a queen for the years to come. There was no known record of what happened to brides who failed his test.

Thankfully, Maanvi didn't have to subject herself to any such exertion. She only had to survive the jet lag. Not that that was the least of Maanvi's problems. Throughout the flight, she was convinced that Virat was eyeing her. Though she had been attracted to the man, she was repelled by him now. He had played with her life, and now he wanted to play with her body. She wondered whether being Beeji's granddaughter would make it acceptable if she shot him and somehow found a boat back to India.

There was only one guide to escort him to their cottage, and he left once he'd dropped them off at their doorstep, telling them to call him when they wished to return. Maanvi gulped. Did he plan to keep her indefinitely here, like some kind of twisted marooned lover fantasy? Her mind had already begun formulating a plan. As they stepped inside their room, she scanned it for any heavy objects. She needed to stun him without him realizing. But then what? There was probably no network on this island, which confirmed her fears that Virat planned to leave her here forever and return back to India.

Virat was busy taking a shower, and she could hear him whistling some silly tune. If she needed to return, she needed Virat. Maybe she could search his luggage-but what would she find except his passport? Even if she stole it, he would just overpower her. He would have already made arrangements for somebody to come fetch him from the island. She just needed to learn when and how that somebody come. And there was only one method for that…

Maanvi closed her eyes, and tried her best not to cry. She'd been thinking about this throughout the flight, and now she had to admit that if she had to coax any answers out of Virat-including why did Viren run away and why did he agree to marry her-then she would have to offer something in exchange. She sighed. But what did it matter anyway? The old, confused Maanvi was gone. She had finally found a purpose for her life, the burning ambition her Beeji had looked for in her, but in vain.

Her first purpose: Destroy Viren Vadhera

Her second purpose: Destroy Virat Vadhera

She removed her ornaments first. Then taking out some wet wipes,she made sure her face was devoid of the garish makeup she had been plastered with for the past one month. She looked most beautiful au naturel. Then she removed her lehenga, followed by her undergarments. She would not give him the pleasure of undressing her, of taking his time to discover the flaws and secrets of her body. She would offer herself to him whole and raw. Take it or leave it. She slid on top of the blankets and crossed her legs. She loosened her intricate hairdo and let it spill down to her shoulders. With the light of the galaxy filtering in through the window, she looked like a celestial nymph, like a constellation in human form. A dark angel.

The door opened and Virat stepped out, running a towel through his hair, and came to a stop. His breath hitched in his throat. This was not the Maanvi Chaudhary he knew. There was no Mac foundation smeared on her face, no Swarovski crystals choking her neck or a Nita Lulla wrapped around her waist. She was silent, without a hint of artificiality. She tried to bite down a smirk. He was hooked, no doubt.

He stepped towards the bed, and she tried to remain where she was instead of drawing the sheets up to herself. Then he unzipped his luggage, took out a pair of trousers and pulled them on. And he let her remain a beautiful statue as he stepped out of the cottage and onto the beach beyond.

The first night of their honeymoon had begun-and it was over too.

Originally posted by: avika26

Whats lita lulla?